You're Not Feeling Very Sexual

You stare at the walls 

You stare at the ceiling 

You stare at the floor

You stare at the window

And they all seem oblique

You smoke a cigarette

You pick up the dialtone

You stare at the walls

 You smoke a cigarette

You drink another wine

You keep watching for the mail

You read the paper backwards

You check the locks on the door

You don’t feel very sexual

You don’t feel very smart

You don’t feel very guilty

You don’t feel very good

You’re not feeling very sexual

You touch your face

You touch your hair

You touch your neck

Your touch your back

Your touch the scar

You earned under fire

You chew on your lip

You chew on your eraser

You chew on gravel thoughts and casual cud

You lay on the bed

You lay on the couch

You lay on the floor

You lay on your stomach

With no hope in sight

You’re not feeling very sexual

You plan to keep moving

You plan to make amends

You pick up the dialtone

You pick up signals from space                                            

You curse under breath

You curse the day 

And you curse the mirror

You don’t feel very sexual

You don’t feel like much of anything